Everything For Nothing
by Maya Beebop
Summary: (Set in BB2K) Ray's got a good life with her mom.  But she's just in the wrong place at the wrong time, discovering secrets about her life that she never even knew existed.  And for each answer she gets, another surfaces...
1. Checkmate

"God _damn_ it!"

Ray dug in her backpack for the keys to her pickup. The red truck was baking in the noon heat, and the rolled-up windows weren't helping.

"Ah!" she exclaimed as she brought the jangling bits of metal up from the very bottom of the bag. Ray shoved them into the ignition, pumped three times, then finally started the car. She backed up out of the space in the school parking lot and drove towards the exit of the lot as smoothly as she could.

Suddenly, she felt a jolt from the rear of the car. She whipped her head around, her entire brown ponytail hitting her in the face as she tried to see through the small window. Giving a groan of disgust, she killed the motor and opened her door, standing on the edge to see what happened.

Some Porsche-driving teenybopper had rammed into Ray's rear while she was yammering on her cell-phone and talking to her three friends at the same time. Ray cursed under her breath and hopped down to survey the damage.

Thankfully, nothing was wrong with her fender. At least, nothing that really mattered or even grossed in the top _twenty_ of her life's problems. One more scratch added to the countless other marks on the back end of her pickup. She shrugged and turned to get back in the truck.

"Hey! Hey you! Where the _hell_ do you think you're going? You're gonna have to give me your info, girl! You're gonna _pay_ for my paint job and bodywork!" the preppy chick demanded as she had seen what happened to her car. The entire front bumper was a twisted hunk of metal and the driver's side light was smashed into thousands of plastic pieces that glittered like diamonds on the burning asphault.

Ray swung herself into the driver's seat and pumped the ignition. She yelled out her window, which was rolled down because of the lack of A/C.

"I'll be glad to, once you claim in court that you weren't using a handheld cell-phone while you were operating your car. If that situation should come to pass, I'll be glad to call your company and have the printout delivered of the times and locations of all your recent calls."

"You can't-…"

"I _believe_ I can and I also believe _that_ is what is commonly referred to as a 'checkmate'. Have a nice day."

And with that, Ray pulled out of the lot.


	2. Visions of the Past

Fate found her in front of a Sam Ash with forty dollars of cash in her pocket. Harmonicas were getting damn expensive these days. She had eight hours' worth of work in her pocket and was about to blow it on two small metal instruments. But, if her band worked out, she'd be living the high life in no time.

_Nothing like putting out the dough and seeing it come back twice_.

She walked inside and hit the racks. Picking out an E-flat and an F-sharp/G-flat, she realized how much money she had already sunk into her vast collection of harps. Doing some quick mental math, she surprised herself when she came up with the number.

_One hundred and eighty dollars, counting these two? Holy crap…_

She shook her head as she had them rung up and as she handed over the two twenties, plus some odd change. Easy come, easy go…

Ray drove slightly above the speed limit all the way home. She didn't flinch when a cop car pulled into her lane, and didn't even breathe a sigh of relief as he passed her. To show fear was to lose the game of cat-and-mouse she loved to play with the rookies on traffic patrol. Ray would go just fast enough to get their attention, and just when they were all puffed-up and ready to write the ticket, she'd slow down and turn off the main drag.

Smirking as the police car went by, she realized she was about to miss the turnoff. Quickly averting her attention back to the road, Ray looked for her home. She turned into the cracked concrete driveway leading up to what could be considered a mobile-home, but obviously hadn't been mobile in what Ray estimated was the last century. She sighed as she pulled the key from the ignition and hopped down from her perch.

Rattling the door, she finally gave it a good shove before the swollen slab of wood popped open. Ray walked down a short hallway and turned the fifties-era painted porcelain knob that was on her bedroom door.

Entering her sanctuary, she dropped her keys into a small green glass bowl next to the door and fell on her bed. The wooden frame creaked and Ray eyed it icily. If it broke, she'd be sleeping Oriental-style: on the floor and all the more closer to any wandering insect life incapable of flight.

Ray turned over and placed the two new harmonicas next to their brothers. She held each one of them, feeling their smooth curves and polished wood. Not much could be said about Ray's housekeeping skills (her room was barely ever clean and she often failed to pick up after herself), but she cared for her harps like a mother; polishing them and buffing their metal once a week, cleaning out the insides and washing the cases.

But one in particular she didn't play. She had bought a replacement so she didn't have to use it. It was in the key of C, the most basic of the tones, and it sat in an old, worn, cardboard box whose label had long since rubbed off. The metal was so grimed and used, the brand name of the harmonica itself had ceased to exist.

Ray remembered how she used to play it when she was much younger. It was her first, and had inspired her to branch out and learn to accompany the local bands in her school. Her talent was much in demand among the groups with acoustics, but those who had heavy-metal bands or "New Age" sounds shunned her because of the twangy sound she produced and loved.

But now, she respected the harmonica and kept her distance. For all she knew, the sound might have gone out of it. For certain it no longer had the "soul" she believed the rest of her harps possessed.

Shrugging it off, she got up and went back into the house. Everything was spick and span as usual; the surfaces were dusted, the floor and rugs vacuumed, and every window was polished until they glimmered. Ray shrugged at her mother's obsessive nature and went into the kitchen.

Fortunately, her mother was there. Ms. Banning was a woman of epic proportions when it came to cleaning and cooking. Her food extraction could come from any portion of the globe; the Bannings had no real preference. The thick Italian, Greek, Hispanic, and dozens of other denominations' blood was mixed and lost in the countless generations that had passed since the dawn of time, leading down to the current generation of Bannings

Ray recalled a genealogy project she had to do once, tracing her family's bloodline back five generations and to tell what countries they came from. The teacher expected maybe two countries from each student, thinking that the heavily populated, immigrant-settled area would be virtually mono-national, but Ray handed in a list of countries so long, the teacher had just given her an "A" without even looking at it.

The memory made her smile as she watched her mother bustle around the kitchen. Ms. Banning was by no means a heavy woman. She wasn't even average. She had a beautifully sculpted figure that Ray thankfully inherited. Her face, although naturally gorgeous when she had been younger, had been exposed to the elements for too long and now required a minimal amount of makeup. Ray needed no such trivialities, and went about her business without worrying about cosmetics; she had the earthy beauty that needed nothing but God's blessing and a wash every morning, which Ray religiously attended to each day.

"What's cooking, Mom?" Ray inquired, sitting on a barstool and leaning on the counter.

"I thought we'd do taco salad and some black bean soup. I'm kind of tired, so is that alright?"

"More than enough, Mom. By the way, did you see the news this morning?"

"Why, no I didn't, dear. What was on? If it has anything to do with the war, I don't want to listen. It's morbid, and I really with they'd just bring the troops home and stop all this publicity," Ms. Banning stated as she chopped up lettuce with a large cook's knife.

"Well, not exactly. There's a manhunt for a group of guys who virtually went on a rampage some years back. One of them just got out of prison and is back to his old tricks. His partner died in jail. Sad, sad thing."

"Really? Well, some people just can't change…" She continued slicing the head of lettuce, not looking up.

Ray looked out the window. Some birds were perched on the edge of the stone birdbath in the backyard, and she watched them drink and fly off.

"Yeah, but a double-felony? I mean, he spent eighteen years in jail! Don't you think he'd have learned his lesson?"

"Honey," Ms. Banning said, putting the knife down. "Sometimes people are in trouble for the wrong reasons. They're messed up in mixed-up ways, kind of like that 'wrong place at the wrong time' thing. Sometimes it's not their fault. But honestly, it's none of our business what some man does. Let the police handle it is what I say."

"You sound like you know the guy," Ray laughed, surprised by her mother's speech.

"I guess I did sound a but funny just then," her mother returned, chuckling herself. She returned to slicing vegetables. "Just who is this 'rampaging' man, anyway?"

Ray struggled to remember the name. "Um…oh yeah! Something…Blues. That's all I can remember."

The knife clattered to the floor. Ray jumped, praying it hadn't landed point-down in her mother's foot. She jumped down and retrieved it, washing the blade off in the sink. Drying it, she consulted her mother, who was staring at the wall, unmoving.

"Mom? You ok? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"N-no. I'm f-fine. Just a bit…dizzy. The heat got to me. I…I'm going to go lie down for a minute. Could you just run out and get the mail? I'll only be a little while…"

Her mother exited, and Ray watched her leave. Turning to the counter, Ray eyed the pile of the day's letters and wondered what could have spooked her mother so badly.


	3. Blackout

Ray lay sprawled out over the sofa. She eyed the TV, which was spouting information on the recent updates from the war. Sighing, she picked up the clicker and was about to change the channel, when the anchorwoman brought up a new topic that caught Ray's attention.

It was about the hurricane-like actions of that group of men she heard about. They were still on the run, and were considered highly dangerous. The hotline had been set up for information about them, blah blah blah.

Ray listened for the names, and grinned when they came up. Some face shots flashed on the screen and then the picture of their ringleader appeared.

"Elwood Blues…" Ray repeated after the announcer's voice. "What kind of a name is 'Elwood'? Jeez, I'd go on a spree too if that were _my_ name," she laughed, changing the channel to some daytime soap opera. She scrutinized the plot for just a few moments before flicking the television off with a groan of disgust.

"Soap operas should be ordered to have at least _some_ kind of story-line," she muttered as she stalked back into the kitchen. Her mother was back, stirring the soup with a blank look on her face.

"Mom? Are you alright?" Ray inquired, leaning on the wall.

"Oh, yes dear. Just fine. I just felt a little under the weather. All ready for summer vacation, dear?" Ms. Banning piped, cheerily.

"Um, yeah. About that…" Ray rubbed the back of her head. "I was thinking about taking a road trip…"

"Absolutely out of the question, dear. You have your job over at the theater! They're counting on you to be the head counselor, just like last year!"

"But Mom, Casey and Victoria are renting a trailer, and I already gave them my share of the cash! If I don't go, they can't go!"

"Then let them have your money. How much was it?"

"Five hundred bucks!" Ray demanded.

"Well, that's hardly too much. You'll earn two thousand doing your job."

"But-…"

Ms. Banning turned around, her hands on her hips. "Ray, _honey_, I know you might want to take that trip. But think about it. Where were you going to go? What were you going to see, besides cute guys? It is a waste of good money and a waste of gasoline besides. Inflation is bad enough these days without wasting gas on pointless trips.

"See if you can find someone else to go with Casey and Victoria. Then have them give you the five hundred dollars. It's easy enough, right?"

Ray groaned and rolled her eyes. Four years of high school, and she had wasted every summer of it leading a theatrical clinic at a local playhouse. Now, the summer of her senior year, she was being held back by her mother.

_Technically_ she could tell her mother to go stuff it and Ray could be travelling the country by next week. She was, after all, eighteen and legally an adult. But she couldn't imagine doing that.

Ray turned back and grabbed her keys. Launching herself into the truck, she drove out of the small development and turned into her favorite pizza place near the end of the highway.

She ordered a slice of the greasiest, cheesy, crispy pizza on her side of the Mississippi and had just barely sat down when she heard the front bell jingle and watched as a troupe of men stomped in and ordered four large pizzas with various toppings. Ray took a bite and promptly choked when she recognized one of the men; the last one to walk in.

He was wearing a black suit, hat, and sunglasses, and his build was lanky and thin. He had a slight smirk playing on his face, and was speaking to two other men with suits on; one tall and stocky, the other slightly shorter and African-American.

The stringy cheese hung in limp streamers from her mouth as she kept her eyes on them. Realizing what she must have looked like, she wiped the excess from her chin and stared as raptly as she had been.

The men sat back in the large party room save for the three suited men and one kid in a suit and hat. They all planted themselves near the front door with their own pizza and began discussing whatever seemed important to them.

Ray continued eating, afraid to draw attention. After all, these guys were on the most-wanted list. They were there for a reason, and she wouldn't put murder past them, given their record. After all, what was one dead girl to guys who had the entire country after them?

She shrunk in her seat and prayed they'd leave soon. She sucked on her soda and realized it was empty. Her plate was clean. Staying where she was would attract confused stares from onlookers. Ray was stuck in a _very_ uncomfortable scenario.

Suddenly, an old lady near her gasped and shrieked. "Oh my gosh! It's those men from TV! They're criminals! Someone call 911!"

Ray watched the seconds go by in slow motion. In less than a minute, the four suited men had stood and began for the door. But the guy behind the counter had put the door on lockdown and the thin, suited man acted as quickly as possible. He motioned for the large one, and Ray didn't have time to move.

The big one grabbed her and held her hostage. Ray screamed and kicked and fought his iron grip, but barely noticed as her captors kicked out the door and made for a police-esque vehicle. Unfortunately, she didn't see much more as she hit her head on the door-post when they dragged her through the entrance and promptly blacked out.


	4. Kidnapped!

Colors swam in front of Ray's eyes. She shook her head and rubbed a sore spot near the back of it, realizing that her hands were tied together with a messy excuse for a knot.

Instantly awake, she discovered she was in the back seat of a police car, moving very fast, probably on a highway. She shrunk over to the edge of the seat and lifted her head enough to see four men crammed in the front seat. They were those guys; the ones who had…_kidnapped_ her, she realized with a start. _She was being kidnapped!_

"Hey!" she yelled, startling the driver and causing him to slightly step on the brakes. The car kept moving, however, and he resumed the pace.

"Hey, what the hell is this?" she demanded through the black grating in front of her. "Why am I tied up? Let me out! Right now, damn it!"

The big guy turned around. "I don't think you want us to let you out _right now_."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because we're driving down a freeway with no shoulder for the next twenty miles."

Ray looked out the window and saw it was true. The afternoon traffic surged around them, leaving no space for anyone to pull over. She sighed and sat back.

"Hungry?"

The word surprised her. She looked up to see the black guy holding a bag of McDonalds french fries through a hole in the grate. She made a sound and reached up to take them, nodding.

"Thanks," she muttered, discovering that eating was quite difficult with her hands tied up. She spent a few seconds writhing her wrists in the bonds and finally freed them. Sighing, her relief was short-lived when she saw a pair of real metal handcuffs around her ankles. Groaning with disgust, she leaned up and grasped the metal grate.

"Why am I all locked up? Let me go!" she spat.

"Ah…we don't want to do that," the lanky driver commented.

"Why not? I'm in the back seat of a cop car. No way out, no way for me to hurt you; why can't you unchain me?"

"Because you might do something stupid. Like try to climb out the window or something."

"Well, you freakin' kidnapped me! Why shouldn't I try to escape?"

"Listen, kid," the large one said. "We just needed you for cover. Surveys show cops are less likely to fire on someone if their hostage is a young, teenage or early adult female. That and you were the closest person we could grab."

"So I was just a ticket out of there?"

"What's one kidnapping on our list of felonies?" the driver claimed. "Once we get clear of the traffic, you just say where you want us to let you off and I'll stop the car."

Ray was bowled over. They'd just…let her go? Just like that?

"Are you serious?" she ventured.

"We can't afford to be watching you all the time. We've got gigs to do, and it's not like we can keep you in a guitar case."

"Guitar case? Is that some kind of slang term for something?"

"No, it means a guitar case. Jeez, kid, you're acting like you think we'd _kill_ you!" Ray could almost see the smirk on the driver's face.

She looked out the window. "You're telling me…that after about a billion felonies and almost killing the entire ILPD, totaling every cruiser in three states and blowing up a strip club…you'd just let a hostage go? Because you don't need me?" She was dumbfounded.

"Kid, don't take this the wrong way, but you're no good to us. A hostage wouldn't be a bad thing, but frankly we ain't got room for you. It's amazing they crammed the rest of the band in the other car.

"Not only that, but it'd be too hard to watch you. So it comes down to how much we need a cover, and we really don't. So you're hoofing it home or sharing the backseat with four other guys."

Her mouth must have dropped open, because the black singer grinned. "You're not used to this, are you?"

"Not exactly."

The big guy turned and stared her down for a minute. Ray got sick of it and glared back. "What?" she demanded.

"You know a girl named Lisa Banning?"

Her eyes widened and she got suspicious. "Why?"

"You look like her a little."

"…Lisa Banning is my mother's name."

"Figures. How's she doing these days? I heard she went and got a desk job at some company as a secretary. I kept telling the girls Lisa'd come back, but I guess your mom liked the job, because she never did."

"Come back? And how did you know my mom?"

"Ah, I worked as bartender at Willie's Club. Your mom was a dancer there for awhile. We were really sad to see her go. Threw a party and everything."

"Wait a minute…you _knew_ my mom…and it wasn't from her secretarial job? Since when did she ever have a job before that?"

"Since a long while back. She had two jobs back then, one as a secretary and the other as a dancer. Soon she quit Willie's and went totally desk," he explained.

Ray sat in stony silence for a few minutes. Her mother…a dancer? At some club…no wonder she had kept it a secret! But it didn't explain much. All it revealed was the past that Ms. Banning didn't want to be hers. Not much illumination in that.

"So…Lisa's doing alright?"

The words came from the driver. Ray looked up and caught his eyes in the rear view mirror.

"Yeah. Why do you care?"

"I…knew her. Before I went in…"

"You…_no wonder_! What the hell did you do to her?!" Ray raged, gripping the ripped leather upholstery and snarling.

"I brought up your name because I heard it on the news and she went postal! She stopped talking and got sick for a few hours! Jesus, did you beat up her mother or something? Did you kill up my da-…"

She faded away, upset that she had brought up the one subject she hated. The bastard. He had made her think about…_him_…when she had almost completely forgotten. Who did this asshole think he was?

He cleared his throat, trying to change the subject. But Ray's eyes showed no mercy and raged at him through the mirror. The big guy nudged the driver and motioned towards the backseat. "Better make peace, Elwood."

Elwood kept his head straight and continued driving.

"Your dad ain't dead."

"I know that, you jerk."

"I mean, I know where he is."

"Well I don't wanna know. The bastard deserves to rot in hell. And so do you," Ray spat, almost sorry she let the cursing slip. It was a habit she had already broken, except for times when she was really mad.

Elwood kept his eyes on the road, not daring to meet the angry gaze of the teenager in his backseat.

The car screeched to a stop and Ray realized they were on the edge of a commercial strip, full of convenience stores and restaurants. The kid slipped a dollar bill through the grating and Ray heard her right side door unlock and open slightly.

"Go ahead and call your mom," Elwood said blankly. "Make sure you tell her where you are. And tell her…tell her Mack and Elwood say Hi."

Ray sat for a moment on the hot seat and looked at the stores. Their glittering signs were starting to glow in the twilight and she looked over them, past them into the view of the city below. Hundreds of yellow lights glimmered in the gathering dark, and she reached for the door.

Suddenly, she pulled back on the handle and slammed the door shut. She turned back to the grate and growled to the four men in the front seat.

"I'm not going anywhere."


	5. Bad Memories

"I'll share the seat, I'll let myself be kidnapped. Hell, I'll testify in court that I was willing to be abducted. But you know a hell of a lot more about my mom than you're letting on. And I'll be damned before letting you pass me by and telling me I don't want to know," Ray said in a cold tone.

"Kid, we can't-…" Elwood started

"The name isn't 'kid'. I am not a kid; I am eighteen years old. I'm legally an adult, and my name is Ray Banning. You call me Ray."

"Ray, then. We can't just bring you along. The whole 'hostage' thing was just something to keep you from jumping out the window into rush hour on a freeway. We promised to let you off and that's what we have to do. Get out."

"You're gonna have to make me."

"You know I can. I've got at least twelve able-bodied guys that would throw you out onto the curb."

"Do it."

They sat in silence for three minutes. Both were at silent war with one another, and it looked like Elwood was ready to do it. He was eyeing his side-view mirror, contemplating which of his partners would be indifferent enough to physically pull a girl out of his backseat and put her down on the side of the road. Coming up with a grand total of zero, he sighed and revved the engine.

Ray relaxed her face and inwardly sighed. She was actually scared for a minute he'd actually do it. There had been a long minute of doubt…of worry that some men would throw her out. But just a glimmer of hope had held her, and now it was paying off.

They pulled back onto the highway and the car was quiet for awhile. Finally, the big guy began the introductions.

"Well, I'm Mack, and this is Cab, and this little midget is Buster. What do you want to know about Lisa?"

Ray shrugged. "You tell me. It seems I don't know nearly enough to even ask questions."

Mack sighed and raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, Ray. You've got your own view of your mother, and it'd be wrong of us to change that. I mean, you've got so long to know her."

"Just start talking."

He let all the air out of his lungs and began.

"Lisa Banning was one of the girls at Willie's for awhile, before it was Willie's. It used to be called "Night Moods", but the owner went bankrupt and sold out.

"Anyway, she only worked nights, because daytime hours were when she worked at some cheesy little desk job in the middle-class neighborhood. We knew she hated it, but she didn't like her night job any better. But she couldn't quit; she had rent and stuff to pay off, not to mention some old debts your grandparents had left. Everyone knew that.

"So one day, she comes in all emotional and asks Willie if she could start working days, too. He lets her and even gives her a bonus, and she tells the other girls later on that her other boss was the real nasty type, the kind that just couldn't keep his hands to himself, you know?

"So now Lisa's working days and nights and one day Elwood blows in for a talk with the manager. He comes out pissed off and slugs a couple of beers and sees your mom. They start talking and-…"

The car suddenly screeched to a halt and the four passengers turned to stare at Elwood. He was sitting in stony silence, pulled over to the side of the road. As they watched, he opened the car door and got out, walking into the woods on the other side of the road.

"What's with him?" Buster asked after they watched him disappear into the foliage.

"Probably had to let the dogs out. Turns out, I gotta too. Scootch over, kid," Cab motioned, and the two got out and went into the woods on their side of the road.

With just Mack and Ray left in the vehicle, the man sighed deeply and stared at the other side of the road.

"It's funny, he doesn't usually get upset when I talk about her. She's such a sweet girl; my favorite when I worked there. Always smiling and laughing, so I knew something bad went down when she came in that one day after leaving the old job.

"After the guys went in, Lisa just quit. Right out of the blue, too. Came in, resigned, and walked out. I heard she got a much better secretarial job in the business district. Twice the pay and less work, a great chance I'm glad she didn't pass up," Mack finished.

"And that's it? That's the grand ending? What about what happened between her and Elwood?" Ray demanded.

"That's really not mine to say. You want answers, they're gonna come from Elwood or your mom."

Ray glared a minute at the car door, then shoved it open and got out. She stalked across the road and searched the woods until she found Elwood sitting on a stump, facing away from her.


	6. Don't Want To Know

"You know," she snarled. She knew she caught him by surprise because he jumped a little and turned his head quickly.

"Huh?"

"You know something you're not telling. If you think I'm gonna buy you didn't spend any time with my mom, you're one stupid guy. Now spill your guts."

"Listen, kid-…"

"_Ray_."

"Ray. What went on back then is something you don't wanna know. Alright? It's the _last_ thing you wanna find out about. So stop asking questions."

"Why'd you go to prison, huh? Was it because of her? What did you do to her?" Ray demanded.

"I'm telling you, you don't wanna know!"

"Who the _hell_ do you think you are, telling me what I don't want to know? You'd better tell me, or I swear to god I'll wrestle it out of _her_, and I know that'd kill you. I _know_ your type, you can't stand to see someone else have to take the heat for you.

"Now I swear that if you don't tell me, I'll make her." Ray stood, hands in fists at her sides, feet slightly apart. She looked like she was two feet from the edge of her sanity and seriously considering mauling him if he refused.

He sighed and shook his head, the glasses hiding his eyes.

"It wasn't your mom's fault I went in. It had nothing to do with her. We were stupid. Kinda like we're being now.

"Your mom and me…well…I guess you could'a called us…er, _involved_. Romantically speakin'. Couple'a dates and whatever."

"Oh my _god_. You two were having an affair! Jesus!" Ray appealed to the sky, disgusted. She was so not ready for this! Of all things!

"Hold on a minute! Since when did I say she was married? The woman was as single as a nun!" Elwood proclaimed.

"Single? She was bloody pregnant with me, or soon to be!"

"Bull! Your mom wasn't married!"

"Wait a minute…" Ray struggled to understand. She rubbed her right temple, which had begin to ache with the pain of thinking too hard.

She looked at Elwood, then thought of her mom. She took a few long minutes to mull over how her mom couldn't have been married…and pregnant…but after all, one doesn't technically have to be wed to get pregnant…

She thought about it. Her mother must have had a fiancé, her dad! …And she had cheated on him! That's it! Not the most acceptable reality, but one Ray was willing to face.

"She was _engaged_, you sicko! Or did you not see the ring on her finger?"

"She didn't have no ring! Didn't you hear me? No husband, no husband-to-be! Just a dancer in a nightclub!"

"And what did you two _do_ together? You didn't do the _deed_, did you?" she raved.

"Well I knew the cops were on our tail for a minimum of ten years! It seemed like a good idea at the time!"

The thought sank in and Ray felt nauseous. To think…her own _mother_ had gone back on her fidelity and did it with this _nobody_, this felon who wasn't even worth the secondhand clothes on his back!

"Wait a minute. If she had no fiancé…and she was going to have _me_…and you're the only one she did it with…_eighteen years_…"

Ray retched. She was definitely going to throw up. And she did. Bending down, she felt the bile rise from her stomach and expel itself onto the forest floor. The stench hit her and made her throw up again, and when there was no more half-digested food in her stomach, her body began forcing up the very stomach acids that burned her tongue and sizzled in her nose.

"Oh god…oh my _god_…" She was about to fall over. Her whole abdomen hurt, and she felt Elwood's hands on her shoulders, steadying her.

"Jesus, kid! Are you alright?"

"_No_! Get off me! Don't touch me!" she spat, smacking his hands away and staggering backwards away from him.

Her world was a haze. She wavered back and forth before losing her balance and tripping over an upraised root. She fell backwards and hit her head on the trunk of a tree, already unconscious before her head touched the dirt.


	7. That's Where You Get It From

Street lamps were buzzing by in streaks of amber-colored light. The hum of the highway drummed in Ray's head as her eyes cracked open. She realized her face was pushed against the backrest of the seat and her cheek was prickly from the pattern of the fabric.

She turned her head slightly and pulled her knees closer to her body. Still dizzy, she tried to focus on the figures around her. Two men were crammed into the back seat with her, with the original four in front. When she saw the driver, she felt nauseous. Clenching her eyes tight, she went back to sleep.

* * *

"Hey, hey! Get up. Time to go get some grub." 

Someone was slightly shaking her shoulder. Ray opened her eyes and saw Mack's large hand retreating and his door opening. Suddenly the door she'd been leaning on flew open and, balance lost, she fell out of the car and landed on hard gravel.

She cursed and felt someone help her up, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her to her feet. It was Mack and Cab, and they brushed off her back. She winced suddenly and reached up to touch her cheek; a thin line of pain burned up and she hissed.

"Damn, sorry about that. Thought you were buckled in. You ok?" Cab asked apologetically.

She nodded and rubbed her head. "One hell of a wake-up call. Where are we?"

"Some diner south of the Minnesota state line. We're just here for breakfast. Hungry?" was the answer.

Shrugging, Ray coughed once and followed them inside. Just as they sat down – her, Mack, Cab and Buster – she realized someone was missing. When she remembered who it was, something in her felt a little happy that he didn't come in with them. Another part of her wondered where he was.

"Elwood's in the bathroom," Mack explained, reading her mind. "What happened back there? One minute you go running off into the woods, all half-cocked, and the next he comes back and tells us to go pick you up. You narcoleptic?"

Ray shook her head. "No."

"Then what?"

Her silence didn't invite further questions. So they decided to let it go. "You like pancakes?" Buster asked, breaking the awkward silence.

She sighed and stood up. Making her way back towards the restrooms to freshen up, just as she was about to push open the Ladies' Room door Elwood stepped out of the Men's Room. They locked eyes for a moment, but Ray's momentum carried her all the way into the bathroom and thankfully the door swung closed behind her.

She hung in the balance a moment, then her legs almost gave out and she caught herself on the sink. Breathing heavily, she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

_So that's where I get the height from. And the skin. And the nose._

Lisa Banning, for all her physical beauty, had rather fair skin and a small, pointed nose. And she never made it past five-foot-seven. Ray had always had the knack to tan easily and not burn like her poor mother in the summer months. And she hadn't been five-seven since sixth or seventh grade, five years ago.

_What am I saying? Am I actually comparing myself to him? Stop thinking that way! He's not-…he's not anything. Just a criminal._

She took a deep breath. Pushing herself back on balance, she washed her hands. Licking her dry lips, suddenly she tasted blood.

Snapping her gaze up, her eyes beheld the thin cut on her cheek that she'd received not ten minutes before. Why hadn't she seen it a minute ago in the mirror? The blood wasn't much, but it had traced a crimson line down her face and ended at the corner of her mouth.

Grabbing a towel, she wiped off the blood and washed the wound, wincing a bit at the soap's sting. But soon, all that remained was a small pink mark, a tiny slash in the skin. It would heal fine. And it would just be another pearly line.

Ray came out of the bathroom and made for the table. Upon seeing the four men now sitting there, perusing the menus, she subconsciously searched for any excuse not to return. Suddenly she saw a pay phone to her right and went over, dropping fifty cents into the slot.

She dialed and let it ring. The other line picked up and she sighed.

The voice was exhausted and worried. "Hello? Banning residence."

"Mom?"

Lisa Banning let out a short cry of relief. "Ray? Honey, I was so scared! Where are you? Why didn't you come home? They said you were kidnapped! Are you ok?"

Ray shook her head to herself. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm a little south of Minnesota. Not sure where exactly."

"But why?"

"Mom, don't be mad, but…I took a sort of road trip."

"What!"

"It's not with Casey or Victoria. I…went by myself. Just wanted to see the sights."

"Well, I don't support it, but I can forgive you. When are you coming home?"

Ray looked down the aisle at the men, now getting their drinks. The waitress set down an extra glass of water at the table where Ray had been sitting.

"I'm not sure."

"Do you need money?"

"I might be alright."

"Well, if you need to, you do still have my credit card. Just…use it wisely, please. And come home soon."

Ray paused. "Yeah, Mom. I will." She was about to hang up when her mother spoke again.

"I love you, honey. Be safe."

The girl bit back tears and kept her composure. "Yeah. I love you, too."


	8. 20 Questions

The dial tone buzzed in her ear and Ray replaced the handset with an air of duty. Nothing left to do but go back to the table.

_That's right. All I have to do is walk over there. Just…move my feet ten steps down the aisle. Twenty feet. All I have to do…_

She suddenly felt herself moving forward, that nasty feeling of nausea and despair rising up in her gut with every step she took. Finally, she slid into the seat, as far away from Elwood as humanly possible, who was seated opposite and closest to the window. He was also attacking a plate of dry white toast, which kept him comfortably busy.

Ray ordered a Belgian waffle and not three minutes later, the waitress returned with everyone's food. As each person ate their meal, the stony silence prevailed until Buster broke it with the only subject he knew he would get away with, given the tension between the two people.

"So…you play any instruments?"

Ray raised an eyebrow, started to answer, and then looked away. "Nah. Not enough to brag about."

"C'mon. Everyone plays something. It's a given law of nature."

"Not me. I'm the missing link between primates and homo sapiens when it comes to that."

"Then why'd this receipt fall out of your pocket?"

He held up the note from the music store Ray had gone to only the day before, documenting the two harmonicas she'd purchased. She sucked in a breath and prepared to deny it.

"They were gifts. For my friend. They're…just starting out.

"Doesn't look like that to me," he responded, studying the items on the list. "These keys are a little more advanced. Built for songs one usually doesn't hear."

"Listen, you little peeping-tom!" she snapped as she grabbed it back and stuffed it deep in her back pocket. "What I buy for myself or anyone else isn't your business. I don't play any instruments, ok?"

He shrugged with a knowing smirk. "Alright. Whatever. I was thinking of giving up the harp anyway and getting Matt to teach me some guitar. Guess I gotta keep my job."

This got him back on her good side. "Wait a minute. You mean…you guys _still_ keep up your musical careers? Even with every state trooper in the Northern U.S. looking for you?"

"Heck yeah! What good is all this talent if you don't use it? Plus, half the crowd comes just to see us. They don't really care about the music. They wanna see real criminals!" he laughed.

"What'd _you_ do to get so bad?" she asked coyly.

"Learned it all from Uncle Elwood. 'Specially how to play the blues."

The faith he seemed to have in the ringleader of their crazy circus stupefied Ray. She cocked her head, trying to understand why such a kid would canonize Elwood Blues. Maybe they'd had some sort of history she didn't know about. Maybe he was the guy's kid. Maybe that'd make him her-…

No. She wasn't gonna think that way. If she didn't accept it, didn't even devote one single though to it, it wouldn't be real. She pushed it away and poured more powdered sugar on her waffle.

"Well, we gotta make it to South Dakota before tomorrow. Let's get a move on," Mack commented as she was stuffing the last of her meal into her mouth. They dropped some bills, five dollars of which belonged to Ray, and headed back towards the car.

Well, this was a fine sight! She realized there were many more of them than she had thought. About ten other men were cramming themselves into another gray car with "The Blues Brothers Band" spray-painted onto the side. Two of them, an African-American man and one who looked a little old to be doing this, came over and hopped in the back seat of the police-cruiser. Ray stared, astonished, as the others all pulled a circus-clown stunt and actually all squeezed into the tiny car. Finally, Mack pulled her out of her reverie and tried to talk.

"You want us to leave you here? You can call your mom, you know. We're still not too far from Illinois. There's a pay-phone inside."

She had a tough choice to make. On the one hand, she could try to forget it all happened, go home and spend the rest of the summer counseling the theater camp, hanging with her mother and wondering where she was gonna go in life.

On the other hand, she was already covered on the home front, had plenty of cash, and had a mean desire to stick around. Some inexplicable urge to find out more about the guys. And Lord knew, after eighteen years she deserved to know if this worn-out, twice-indicted felon was really her biological father.

"Mind if I stick around?" she asked.

She could see his eyes widen behind the shades. "You're kidding, right? You wanna tag along with fifteen or so wanted criminals all over the continent? You realize what the heck you're asking?"

She shrugged. "Yep."

He let out a sigh. "Lemme run it by the guys…"

Mack lumbered back over to the car and leaned in the window to discuss it. Apparently, she had some lobbyists in the back seat who explained what a risk she would be…_loudly_. She could practically hear the "What the hell? Are you crazy?" from where she was standing, thirty feet away.

But after about ten minutes of what looked like serious debate, Mack straightened up, turned to her, and motioned toward the car.

Ray, trying not to look too pleased, jogged over, opened the door and slid in.

* * *

"Alright. I'm thinking of an animal."

"Does it have four legs?"

"No."

"Lives in the ocean?"

"Yeah."

"Endangered species?"

"Yeah."

"It's a manatee."

Alan cursed under his breath as Ray grinned and tried to think of a stumper. When he shot her a look, she sighed and rolled her eyes. "You've used the same animal for the past two hours. A _monkey_ would have guessed yours in three questions."

"'Least I don't keep using specific branches of the monkey _family_," was his reply.

"Hey, just 'cause you don't know what a Golden Lion Tamarin is, it doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

"It sounds like a fancy foreign sports car."

"But it has four legs and lives in the rain forest."

Mack thought hard. "Does a monkey's hands count as feet?"

"They use them to walk."

"But some monkeys hop around on two feet. And as babies, _we_ use 'four feet' to crawl around. Does that make _us_ four-legged?"

"Hey! All of you! Shut up!"

The perturbed voice came from the front seat, where a stressed-out Cab was driving. "I'm trying to concentrate on getting us into the next state and you're back there, distracting me with a monkey that lives three continents away!"

They laughed and Matt apologized. "Sorry, man. Just got carried away."


	9. So Cliche

The place was a real fixer-upper. The group stood outside a ramshackle bar affectionately titled "The Dive". A porch that hadn't had its floorboards replaced in decades sprouted weeds and moss from between the boards, and a rocking chair with only one rocker and a spittoon half-filled with what was hopefully rainwater stood outside.

The boys sighed and pulled their stuff around back. What awaited them, however, was a complete surprise. A stadium about half the size of a football field was being set up for the evening; a huge banner proclaiming it "Blues Night" stretched from the roof of the bar to a tall yellow pole about twenty yards away.

Ray watched Elwood and Cab fight their way through the working crowd to find the owner. Mack leaned over and nudged her with his elbow. "This is where we get paid, kid. See that?" He pointed to a flyer describing the big show for the evening as "the amazing comeback revue of the incredible Brothers Blues and crew!"

"They knew they couldn't put our real name up without risking a police raid and ruining the show. But people will know who we are. We'll have this place packed tonight." He grinned and pushed his sunglasses back on his nose.

Ray nodded. Then she cocked her head. "Why do you guys wear those things?"

"What?"

"The suits. The glasses. What, do you want to make fun of the government or something?"

"Nah. Just image. People expect the blues to be played by a bunch of loose old black guys. But when professional Caucasian men in black suits looking like the CIA get up there and start wailing, it throws them for a loop and they eat it up with a spoon."

"So it's all an act?"

"More or less, I guess. But being _in_ the suit…it's something special."

She made a sound of acknowledgement and turned to follow the band, which was trudging towards the stage, instruments in tow. Suddenly she felt something pushed into her hand and looked down. A beat-up old harmonica lay in her palm. She glanced up to see Buster rushing away to the front of the mass.

Ray scowled. The little kid knew. But she played it off, shoving the harp deep into her pocket and offering to carry an amp for Matt.

The band had just barely tuned up and began to warm their routine when Cab came running over, looking really distressed. Ray was busy untangling and rewiring cords to the best of her ability as Cab addressed the other members of the band.

"We got a bad problem!" he managed through hard, taxed breaths. "Some jive-ass numbskull over unloading the chairs knocked Elwood down and dropped a full load of fold-ups on his hands. The guy's swelled up nasty. He's not playing tonight. They think he sprained two fingers."

A general rise of pissed-off feelings came out as they damned their bad luck. Ray caught herself sighing; she realized she'd actually been looking forward to hearing them play.

"Ask Ray to do it!"

The words made her freeze in her spot behind a stand of amplifiers. In her mind, she cursed Buster Blues off with words that would've made a sailor's ears bleed. She only hoped they'd play this off and find someone else. Still as a rock, she waited for a response.

Painfully, none came. She heard the men shuffle over and look down at her, crouched over a spider-web of wires. She slowly raised her eyes to meet their confused and hopeful stares.

"_No_. I don't play," she lied.

"You're a bad liar, Ray. How good are you?" the kid demanded.

"Hey! I'm just a roadie! That was the deal! I'm not a replacement!"

"How good?"

"I _don't play an instrument_!"

"How _good_!"

She clenched her eyes and growled. "I play for two bands and duo with a guitar player! But we're no good! I _can't do this_!"

"Play something."

She glared daggers at the little brat. If only she could pummel him! Did he have any idea how cliché this sounded? Let the daughter take over for the father? It sounded like some cheesy plan to draw in crowds: "The Blues Brothers: Second Generation!" It made her want to retch.

"I'm not playing. _You_ do it. _You_ know how!"

"I'm not as good as Elwood. Maybe you are."

"Maybe I'm not."

The guys looked to one another uneasily. "Listen, Ray," Willie shrugged. "We get that you don't wanna. But we need a harp, dig? If you're no good, we won't force ya. But if you _are_…ya don't get much of a choice. Play something."

She calmed for a moment, triumphant. "I don't have a harmonica."

Buster reached down before she could stop him and tore the said instrument out of her pocket. Ray ripped it out of his hands, bit her lip to keep from calling him something ugly, and played the melody and harmony to "Carolina In My Mind" by James Taylor.

When she'd finished, the group's faces were slack.

"Wow. You're not too good," Don chuckled, scratching his head.

She pouted and folded her arms tight. "Told you."

"But maybe…" Mack studied her hard. "Maybe she's good enough. Think it'll fly if we just keep to the basics?"

Fed up to the boiling point, Ray stood up, balled her hands into fists and gave them all both barrels. "Listen, I'm not doing the show! I signed on to follow you around, cart your crap and pull my weight. But I'm not gonna play dancing-monkey just because Elwood had an accident and I happen to play halfway-decent harp, damn it! Get Buster to do it! _I don't play_!"

With a final gesture of defiance, she threw the harmonica to the ground by Mack's feet and stormed off the stage, leaving the band to wonder what in the Hell was wrong with her.


End file.
